Lucien had been exiled the moment the Purification order was issued. He was one of the suspects, and as the head of the group he got all the blame. Facing the Wrath of Sithis in his sleep was a mere nuisance at first, but the wraith quickly grew in power and within a few nights started to pose a significant challenge. Like Lena, Lucien began avoiding sleep, but unlike Lena, he suffered without it. When loss of concentration made him walk into a bandit ambush without realising it, he suddenly understood the real danger brought on by that wraith: he would either sleep every night and see its power grow until it killed him, or he would forego sleep and be killed by bandits during the day. “I need to find a way to sleep without the wraith appearing,” he realised.

There were many ways to alter one’s dreams, many potions to take, incense to burn, he tried a few, and his dreams changed but the wraith was still there. The worst of it was the dizziness in the morning, the slow brain, shaky movements, headaches and the like. No, that would not do. Perhaps there was someone he could consult on the matter?

His first thought was to summon Vaermina since nightmares were her domain. But did the Wrath of Sithis really count as a dream? Still, it was worth a try. Vaermina had a task for him, a very simple task to retrieve a stolen artefact from a ruin, he was surprised at that. It would have been hard for someone less skilled in stealth, but Lucien simply sneaked past all the monsters, got to the end of the maze and snatched that item without as much as setting off a single trap…

“You were successful, mortal,” Vaermina was pleased. “What do you wish as a reward?”

“Rid my dreams of the Wrath of Sithis,” Lucien asked.

“Oh, but that is no ordinary dream!” Vaermina exclaimed. “You have been punished… Have you suffered enough? Who is to say… The Wrath of Sithis will leave you alone when your debt has been repaid… I have no power over it. But I can help you, mortal. Take my Skull of Corruption, it will accompany you in your dreams. Use it to give you an edge in battle.”

The Skull of Corruption was helpful, for it created a twin of the Wrath of Sithis that attacked the original wraith. With the two of them locked in combat, Lucien could save his strength and only needed to fight if the twin was defeated… which was about half of the time. It was an improvement but not a solution.

After some time Lucien heard of a Glenmoril witch living on a remote farm in Cyrodiil. He sought her out and explained his request.

“The Wrath of Sithis cannot be removed by a mere mortal, not even a Glenmoril witch!” She smirked. “But I can help you withstand it. Do you remember the life you took as your rite of passage when your future Speaker came to you in the dead of night with an offer to join the Brotherhood? That ghost can help you.”

“I very much doubt it,” Lucien shook his head. “I killed that Speaker.”

“And were accepted?”

“That was the test…” He smiled. “He wanted me to kill a Morag Tong assassin.”

“Forgive me if I misunderstand,” the witch gave him a long look. “But is Morag Tong not a mortal enemy of the Dark Brotherhood? That request should not have been a problem…”

“My father is with Morag Tong.”

“But not you?” The witch looked confused. “I think the Wrath of Sithis is the least of your worries. Why live your life on an edge like that? You could have joined Morag Tong.”

“I could have,” Lucien nodded. “But I didn’t. I do not see eye to eye with Mephala,” he smirked.

“No mortal does,” the witch nodded. “Fine, don’t tell me. I doubt you need my help anyway. You make unusual choices, Speaker… You know what will call off the wraith. I don’t think it will leave until that happens. This is a test of survival.”

The witch looked at him and he thought that she knew exactly what was going on. Could she read his mind? Or had she simply lived long enough to know how things worked? She may not have known the details but she grasped the essence well enough. “If you survive and find the traitor, you will be forgiven,” he recalled the words of the Night Mother. Survive. “It is up to you and her,” was another thing she said. “The Wolf child… or perhaps a child no longer.”

“I thank you for your advice,” Lucien put a grand soul gem on the table. “I understand this is the usual fee?”

“Indeed,” the witch took it. “Good luck to you, Speaker.”

…

“I should look in on her,” Lucien thought on his way back to Fort Farragut. “She is still so young… bright as she is, this task might just prove too hard. How does she deal with the wraith, I wonder?”

He entered his quarters in the fort and made a fire, put a roast on a spit. He would rest and prepare for his nightly fight against the wraith. Once done, he could sleep the rest of the night undisturbed. Perhaps it was all it took – perseverance. Was the wraith still growing in strength? Or was he simply expecting it? He was not sure, and decided to stop wasting his efforts on that. It was just another fight, he would take it one at a time, get it over with and get on with trying to track down the traitor. Lena had brought him a few reports already, they were most disturbing…

He got up thinking to review them again when he heard the trapdoor being raised – Lena must have brought another report. He quickly cast on his chameleon cloak and retreated into a dark corner of the room. Lena entered. She looked around as if sensing him, he held his breath – vampires had superior senses. He was sure she could detect him, with magic if anything. She breathed in sharply, noticed the roast, turned to look at the corner where he stood, but didn’t cast a spell and didn’t seem to detect him. She put a scroll and a dagger on the table and left without another glance. He heard her linger outside for a little while, then all was quiet again.

“She knew I was here,” he thought. “Or at least suspected it. Yet she didn’t check, didn’t intrude… remarkable, really.” He walked over to the table to look at her latest report. “The Listener’s Blade of Woe,” he picked up the dagger she’d brought. “The stakes are getting higher by the minute. She will get assassins for this…” He shook his head, reading her notes. “She spared him, good. And now she knows who he is… We should hurry.”

It was a fair notion, but he could not proceed any faster than what he already was doing. Tracking down a traitor who was that skilled, was difficult indeed. Lucien gathered it was one of the Black Hand, but he needed definitive proof rather better than a collection of private notes about pet rats and missing knickers. He had his suspicions, but still wasn’t sure which of the suspects it was exactly, or even if there was more than one. Perhaps there was something he overlooked? He read Lena’s report once again.

“I spared Ungolim because I believe he is the Listener,” she wrote. “The text of the contract was my first clue – it isn’t your style.”

It was only then that Lucien noticed another scroll on the table, that with the contract. He scanned it.

“What pompous nonsense!” He couldn’t help laughing at some turns of the phrase in it. “…and end his miserable existence!” He read. “By Sithis, who writes contracts like that? No wonder she grew suspicious. It is indeed not my style. She’s getting to know me, that’s good, I suppose.”

Lena was not hard to find or to follow, she didn’t try to hide. Her efforts in closing Oblivion gates and her affiliation with the Blades became public knowledge; she was the Hero of Kvatch and Bruma, a talented Evoker of the Mages Guild, a faithful defender of the Empire and her people… The rumours even omitted her minor affliction of vampirism because, let’s face it, the Saviour of Cyrodiil could not possibly be a vampire!

“I bet she’s hating every moment of that fame,” Lucien thought watching her emerge from the Cloud Ruler Temple with a scowl on her face. “Where to next, Saviour? Oh look – an Oblivion gate. Go for it, blow off some steam…”

She went in and a few hours later the gate collapsed with a pop, and Lena appeared outside it holding yet another sigil stone. She tossed it into the grass and engaged a stray clannfear nearby.

“She’s got a sense of humour, she does,” Lucien chuckled watching Lena summon a Xivilai who summoned his own clannfear to fight the one left behind by the Oblivion gate. “Let’s hope she fares as well against a skilled assassin…”

Lucien could not shadow Lena too often, he really only did it when he was in the area anyway. Applewatch near Bruma used to be a Dark Brotherhood safehouse, and it probably still was safe for everyone except him. Members of the Black Hand came there regularly, and Lucien hoped for some notes or papers to be left behind, anything to give him a clue. He lingered in the area watching it when he saw Lena once again on her way to the Cloud Ruler Temple. Then he saw an assassin jump out of an ambush, there was a short struggle, then Lena vanished, leaving the assassin perplexed. “She’s wounded, she’s losing this fight,” Lucien moved closer. “He’s got a silver sword… but she got away. Perhaps I should give her a hand.” He picked up a pebble and threw it at the assassin who immediately turned around, thinking it came from Lena. Lucien led him away from a nearby cave where, he figured, Lena must have been hiding, then using the assassin’s own ambush surprised him and slit his throat. “Sorry, Brother,” he looked down at him with regret. “But this contract was a trap.”

…

The Applewatch finally yielded a clue – Arquen left a letter to the other members of the Black Hand calling them to murder Lucien Lachance without delay and then redouble their efforts in Purifying his Sanctuary. “With him dead, the members of the Sanctuary will be demoralised which will make them into much easier targets!” She wrote. “The Black Hand must unite in eliminating this threat to our Brotherhood! The Listener can overrule us no longer, and then he too can be replaced!”

“This is dangerous stuff,” Lucien shook his head. “I should warn Ocheeva. Let’s hope they don’t get to me first.”

But, as dangerous as that letter was, it struck him as a work of a zealot rather than a traitor. “It isn’t Arquen that we seek,” he thought. “She wants to kill me in order to protect the Brotherhood. She is no traitor. So, if not Arquen, then who?”

He didn’t have an answer to that. It was time to talk to someone who’d been around longer than himself – Vicente.

…

Going to the Sanctuary was a great risk, both for Lucien personally and for the members of the Sanctuary, but he had to do it. Knowing that most of them would be asleep at night, he pushed the Black Door in the abandoned house in the early hours of the morning. He half expected having to fight a Dark Guardian but that wasn’t necessary. Teinaava was in the hall, on watch. He spun around hearing the door open, his sword at the ready, then sheathed it and smiled seeing Lucien.

“Good to see you, Speaker,” he said in a whisper. “Even if you do bring grim tidings. Things are still heating up, I fear.”

“It is as you say,” Lucien nodded. “Casualties?”

“None so far,” Teinaava said not without certain pride. “Wounded – yes, but we are still holding.”

“Stay strong,” Lucien smiled at him. “Remember our training. With two Shadowscales here, you must survive.”

“Go on,” Teinaava stood in front of the door to the dormitories. “I shall guard the door until you’re done. I don’t suppose you want interruptions.”

Lucien nodded and slipped into the corridor leading to Ocheeva’s and Vicente’s rooms.

…

“This is serious,” Ocheeva looked up having read Arquen’s missive. “We are holding up alright here but indeed, should you be killed, the morale will falter. How is Wolf?”

“Alive,” Lucien smiled but his eyes betrayed worry. “They started with the assassins.”

“She must resist them, we cannot help,” Ocheeva looked worried too. “You must shadow her, she is your pupil.”

“I..?” Lucien raised an eyebrow. “It was you who trained her, not I!”

“And you trained me, at least in part,” Ocheeva shook her head. “We cannot help her, so you must.”

“What Ocheeva really means,” Vicente joined the conversation, “is that Wolf cannot fail, at least not yet. And things are still heating up, she may not be ready. I’m sure you can figure it out.” He paused, giving a look to Ocheeva to change the topic, then turning to Lucien. “You didn’t come here to be lectured on your recruit. So, how can we help?”

Lucien smiled and moved Arquen’s scroll out of the way.

“You’ve been here the longest, Vicente,” he started. “You remember things that went on before any of us joined. I think the root of the matter may go very deep indeed.”

“What do you want to know?” Vicente sat back, ready to answer questions.

“Remember that business with the Crimson Scars? Greywyn Blenwyth was Wolf’s great-great-uncle or something,” Lucien looked at Vicente. “We cleared his Sanctuary and I killed him myself, but I think someone may have escaped… they were taking on new people too, who had never been with us and therefore did not need removing, strictly speaking…”

“And you think the traitor is going to use it against her?” Vicente looked concerned.

“They were vampires, some were ancient… even though we killed them, they would have risen again by now…” He paused, thinking. “Wolf is lonely. She is an orphan and a vampire. I’ve seen her go to one or the other coven, but she didn’t seem to have been accepted. Plus, people shun her, of course… It would be too easy to lay a trap for her this way.”

“Then you must watch her,” Vicente inclined his head. “Ocheeva was right after all. No coven will accept her as yet, she is too fresh a fledgling… But she does not know it and I cannot leave to guide her,” he added with regret. “There may be links to her great-great-uncle or even to her mother – she was a Breton and Bretons like to remember their family links, I should know… except when they are vampires, of course,” he smirked to himself. “Either way, you must watch her, save her life and discover the traitor all in one.”

“She is bait, then,” Lucien looked grim.

“It looks like that was the plan,” Vicente nodded. “Keep her alive and she will lead you to the traitor. And stay alive yourself while doing it.” Lucien looked up and Vicente pointed at Arquen’s scroll. “This is no empty threat. If the Black Hand unites against you… I don’t think you’ll survive.”